


Don't You Forget About Me

by Lesserknownhero



Series: Come Fly with Me (Modern Airport AUs) [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Airline AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Awesome Sharon Carter (Marvel), Awkward Flirting, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint barton loves hotdogs and dick jokes, F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Missed Connection, Modern Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:25:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9382649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesserknownhero/pseuds/Lesserknownhero
Summary: Steve is feeling a little lost and a little stuck in his job at the airport. Despite how much he loves his friends he finds himself wanting something more.A chance encounter with a charming stranger doesn't end the way he hoped but maybe what's lost can still be found.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another Airline Au for you lovelies. This one is a little weird but hopefully you all still like it.

“Working on another commission?” Sharon asked fondly.

 

Steve looked up from where he was sketching idly in his sketchbook. The image roughed out on the page depicts the scene on the other side of the customer service counter. Tired, travel weary people milling about waiting for their flight to board. A young mother minding her wild son as he issued orders to his handful of plastic soldiers, a pair of twins sharing headphones as they watched something on a laptop between them and an overweight man making his way through a large cinnamon roll, a dollop of frosting dribbled onto his shirt front.

 

“Not exactly,” Steve said sheepishly, “Just messing around really.”

 

“You hear anything from that school yet?” she asked excitedly.

 

Steve sighed dejectedly and dropped his pencil onto the page before him as he ran his fingers through his hair.

 

“No.” he admitted, “And I’m starting to think I’m not going to.”

 

Sharon leaned over Steve’s shoulder and glanced at the scene he had captured. She laughed fondly and ruffled his hair.

 

“You’re gonna get accepted,” she told him, “Someone is going to see how talented you are and they’re going to be begging you to come to their school. Just be patient and have a little faith.”

 

“ Ma used to say that too,” he said smiling sadly, “It’s just hard knowing that my dream is currently in someone else’s hands.”

 

A familiar feeling of anchor-less sadness came over him. His Ma had been the only family he’d had, his biggest supporter, she had always encouraged him to work hard and dream big. It was hard to stay motivated, to know who he was without her there to cheer him on. Steve took a deep breath to push the sadness away and dragged up a smile.

 

Sharon nodded in understanding and gave his shoulders a squeeze before looking down at the scene he had captured in his sketchbook.

 

Steve straightened his posture while his friend giggled at his work. His back crackled and popped, Steve let out a groan as it did so, realizing he had been hunched over for far too long.  

 

“You’re also gonna get caught one of these days Rogers,” Sharon said smiling, “Someone other than me is going to see this book and you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do. A lot of these aren’t so flattering, I mean they’re accurate but so unflattering.”

 

She had turned the page and was looking at a cartoon of a businessman, his face red and his mouth almost comically wide as he shouted into his cellphone, there were so many painstaking details including the protruding veins in his sweaty forehead, his chubby fingers resembling sausages as he clenched them in a fist.  Steve shrugged and snapped the book shut, drawing another giggle out of Sharon.

 

“Speaking of getting caught,” Steve said quickly eager to change the subject, “I saw you this morning and I gotta say... that was some dress you were wearing.”

 

Sharon’s mouth popped open in a small ‘o’ of surprise as her cheeks pinked in embarrassment.

 

“It wasn’t that short!” Sharon cried, “I mean maybe a little but Nat took me dancing last night and I wanted to look-she always looks gorgeous and I wanted her to want-”

 

Steve is chuckling, trying to hide it behind his hand. Sharon sees it and throws him a dirty look that fails to be as stern as she intends it to be because she’s starting to laugh too.

 

“I hate you,” she said slumping against the counter, “I didn’t have time to go home and change before coming in today. Luckily I had a spare uniform in my car.”

 

“Sharon Carter!” Steve said mock scandalized, “Did I witness a walk of shame this morning?”

 

Natasha chose that moment to sidle up to their counter. Her red hair flawless and her uniform immaculate.

 

“No shame involved Rogers,” Natasha said her smoky voice holding a fair bit of smugness, “And I _liked_ that dress.”

 

She carried two cups from the Starbucks across the way. A mocha for Sharon and a latte for Steve.  He took the cup gratefully and went to dig some cash from his wallet but she waved off his attempts to pay her with a smile.

 

Sharon blushed a bit more and smiled at her girlfriend, who leaned in to whisper something in the blonde’s ear. Steve looked away to give them an illusion of privacy and noticed that the plane they’d been expecting was finally arriving at their gate.

 

People de-boarded the plane and began heading toward the luggage corrals and Steve braced himself for the onslaught of angry customers, pointless questions and impossible requests that seemed to accompany every flight arriving and departing, every day forever. He plastered on his best smile and pushed his glasses up a little repeating the calming mantra his best friend Sam had taught him.

 

_Prison orange isn't my color. Prison orange isn't my color. Prison orange isn't my color._

 

The wave of people passed fairly quickly with only minor confrontation and Steve couldn’t have been happier. Even better, Nat’s friend Clint was approaching the counter with a wide variety of items piled in his arms.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Sharon said holding up her arms in defense.

 

“Aww Sharon,” Clint whined, “There’s not that much this time.”

 

“Save your sob stories for Steve,” Sharon said with a grin, “He’s Lord of the Lost and Found. I have officially washed my hands of that weirdness. Especially after the-”

 

“No.” Nat interrupted, shaking her head, “We all swore we would never speak of that again.”

 

“All those jars.” Steve said softly, horror clear on his face, “A cooler full of-”

 

Sharon gagged and hid her mouth behind her hand as she remembered what had been in that cooler. The only thing more horrifying than the cooler's contents had been the woman who had come to claim it. She shuddered at the mental image.

 

“Steven.” Nat admonished.

 

“Right, right. Sorry.” he said shaking away the haunting memory. “C’mere Clint. Let me see what you’ve got.”

 

“I knew you loved me,” Clint said leaning in to sloppily kiss Steve’s cheek.

 

“Ew!” Steve said wiping the saliva from his cheek, “Damn it Clint!”

 

Clint grinned and did it again to the other cheek.

 

“You know what?” Steve asked pushing his laughing friend away before scrubbing his face with his sleeve, “Now I’m not helping you either.”

 

“Awww honeybunch don’t be like that,” Clint crooned, “Please help me? I’ll give you a hotdog….”

 

“Clint it’s seven in the morning.” Steve said, “The Nathan’s stand isn’t even open yet.”

 

“I wasn’t talking about Nathan’s.” Clint said leering.

 

“In your dreams birdbrain.” Steve said.

 

+++++

Lunch time meant either sitting in the staff lounge and listening to the ever ridiculous TSA horror stories or venturing out into the food court. Steve had neglected to pack a lunch, too preoccupied with the continued lack of response from the art school he had applied to, to focus on proper nutrition.

 

After buying a sub and a couple cookies, he had found an empty booth with an ample view for people watching and dug in.

 

+++++

 

Bucky sat in the food court picking at a plate of fries and willing the time to go by faster. He had arrived at the airport way too early and has spent most of the morning dosing in front of the windows of his gate using his worn duffel bag as a pillow.

 

When he’d found that he could sleep no longer, he had made his way to the food court to get a snack and stretch his legs. Now that he was full, he found himself bored out of his mind once again.

 

The booth to his right was no longer empty and Bucky rose to his feet to discard his tray in an attempt to get a better look at the guy without being obvious.

 

Bucky nearly tripped over his feet. The guy was gorgeous. An impossible mix of contradictions, a strong jaw and a slender neck, large hands and full lips, the list went on and on all adding up to create one of the most attractive guys Bucky had ever seen.

 

The little guy was working furiously, his glasses sliding down his nose as his pencil flew over the page of his sketchbook. Strong white teeth sunk into that full bottom lip in concentration and Bucky felt a pang of jealousy in his gut.

 

Without meaning to he drifted closer like a magnet drawn to the other man. His eyes flicked down to sneak a glimpse at what the blonde was sketching only to have his breath catch in his throat.

 

“Is that me?” Bucky asked.

 

The tiny blonde looked up with a guilty look on his handsome face. A soft blush painted his cheekbones as his baby blue eyes widened in fear.

 

“Ohmygod _I’m so sorry._ ” Steve said quickly, “I’ll destroy it right away. I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just that your hair and your profile, that arm- jesus I’m an idiot- I really am sorry I just-”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa Pal just slow down. It’s _okay.”_ Bucky said with a smile, “I don’t mind. Really I don’t. I was just surprised is all.”

 

Bucky sat down beside the other man and gave him his best smile and got a stunning grin in return. Heart beating a little faster in his chest, Bucky reached out for the sketchbook to get a better look. Reluctantly the book was handed over and Bucky was careful as he took a closer look at his own likeness.

 

“This is incredible,” Bucky said, “Looks like a damn photograph.”

 

“Oh no-well I mean it still needs work- I’m not-” the blonde said awkwardly.

 

Bucky pinned him with a look and watched as the other man ducked and smiled softly looking up at Bucky from beneath his ridiculously long lashes.

 

“Thanks,” the man said softly, “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”

 

Bucky stuck his prosthetic hand out to shake the long fingered hand offered to him.

 

“Bucky Barnes.”

 

Steve took back the sketchbook and began to close it up but Bucky’s shocked scoff stopped him.

 

“Aren’t you going to finish it?” he asked.

 

Steve blushed and shot another shy glance at the man beside him.

 

“You want me to?” he asked incredulously.

 

“Well yeah,” Bucky said grinning, “I’ve never had my portrait done professionally before. I figure this is my chance.”

 

Steve grinned back and picked up his pencil.

 

“I mean if you’ve got the time,” Bucky amended.

 

“Sure,” Steve said, “Break’s not over just yet.”

 

Bucky grinned triumphantly and moved into position while Steve grabbed his pencil and re-situated his sketchbook in front of him. When he looked up again he chuckled at Bucky’s exaggerated pose, a impression of Hamlet except he was using a Sbarro's cup as a substitute for Yorick’s skull. He was nearly convincing with his handsome face pulled into a faux grimace but the mischievous glint in his eye gave him away.

 

A rogue snort escaped Steve as he tried not to react as Bucky clearly wanted him to but it was so hard not to laugh. Steve pressed his lips together tightly and focused on his work, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Bucky broke character for a moment and grinned at Steve while he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before resuming his ridiculous pose.

 

“Cut it out you Jerk!” Steve said finally full on laughing, “Just sit normally and I’ll finish this quick.”

 

Bucky grinned happily then  relaxed into his normal posture though his eyes kept flicking from Steve’s face, to the sketchbook, to the crowds milling around them, and then back to Steve’s face in a loop as he fidgeted with his scarf. It was grey and black with a large red star on the end. It matched his outfit well, the snug looking red henley under a leather jacket, faded blue jeans and heavy dark boots.

 

The scarf was obviously homemade and Bucky’s fingers trailed over it lovingly. Steve wanted to ask but the small smile on Bucky’s face felt private and Steve decided to wait and see if Bucky brought it up on his own. He didn’t but he did chew his lip and continue to glance at Steve’s face as if he wanted to say something.

 

“You can talk,” Steve said amused, “I’ve mostly got your face finished.”

 

“Got it memorized do ya?” Bucky teased.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said, “Something that grotesque is hard to forget.”

 

“Screw you Punk!” Bucky cried, “I’m a masterpiece.”

 

“More like disasterpiece.” Steve deadpanned.

 

“Jealous?”

 

“Obviously,” Steve said, “I always wanted a good excuse to join the circus.”

 

Bucky hooted with surprised laughter and Steve couldn’t help but join in. His eyes sticking on the tempting line of Bucky’s throat as he threw his head back.

 

 _God damn he’s beautiful._ Steve thought.

 

It was strange how easy it was talking to Bucky.  He was a stranger and yet it felt like they had known each other their whole lives.  

 

“So where are you headed?” Steve asked, attempting to chase away those thoughts. “Or are you just arriving in our fine city?”

 

“I’m going home,” Bucky said when he’d calmed, “Now that my service is over-” he paused and swallowed heavily his eyes sticking on his prosthetic, “Yeah. I’m-It’s- I’m going home.. to Brooklyn specifically.”

 

The complex, mostly lost, look on Bucky’s face made Steve’s chest constrict painfully. He knew what it felt like to be lost in your own life. He himself had been feeling that way everyday since his Ma had died. Moving to DC with his then boyfriend hadn’t helped and when the relationship had crashed and burned Steve had felt even more lost than when he’d started. Watching the other man, Steve longed to put down his work and clutch Bucky’s palm with his own. Instead he  finished the sketch and gave Bucky a sympathetic smile.

 

“I wish I could go home,” he offered, “I’m actively trying to actually.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky prompted as he watched Steve carefully tear the page out of his sketchbook, “And where’s home for you?”

 

“Yeah. New York, um Brooklyn too actually.  There’s this great art school there and I applied a couple months ago but I haven’t heard anything yet and the deadline to register is coming up soon and while I can go home even if I don’t get accepted I just really want- Oh God I’m rambling. Sorry.”

 

Steve was blushing furiously and Bucky decided that slightly pink was a real good look on this on this kid. He smiled encouragingly.

 

“Don’t worry Pal,” Bucky said, “I don’t mind and I gotta say, if this school doesn’t take ya they’re a bunch of first rate idiots. I mean look at this!”

 

Bucky picked up his finished portrait and held it carefully in his hands as he examined Steve’s work. Steve packed away his stuff to distract himself from the frankly, adorable look on Bucky’s face.

 

“You’re crazy talented Stevie.” Bucky said softly.

 

“Thanks Buck.” Steve said just as soft.

 

“Can I keep it?” the brunette asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

Steve grinned and took it back for a second signing his name to the bottom right corner with a flourish before handing it back. Steve wracked his brain for something else to say and mentally kicked himself for not adding his number along with his name. Overhead an announcement rang out calling passengers to board a flight heading to New York. Steve glanced at his phone and realized he only had five minutes late of his break.

 

“Shit that’s my flight,” Bucky said.

 

 _Oh god he’s leaving!_ Steve thought. _Say something, give him your number!_

 

Bucky opened his backpack and tucked the sketch  between the pages of a large black notebook before standing up and slinging the bag over his shoulder. Grinning he reached down and offered his hand to Steve. Steve shook the offered hand and stood as well. With Bucky leaving, the food court no longer held any appeal.

 

“So I guess I’ll be seeing ya,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin, “I can’t wait til you’re some big shot artist so I can tell folks that I knew ya before you were famous.”

 

Steve snorted again and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

 

“So you only like things before they're cool huh? ” he teased, "Hipster."

 

Bucky scoffed clutching his chest in exaggerated shock.

 

“Says the guy with the thick framed glasses and 40s era haircut who goes around carrying a leather sketchbook and real charcoal pencils." He snarked back,  "I bet you’ve got fingerless gloves in your coat and a jelly jar of locally sourced tea waiting for ya at home.”

 

“Jerk,” Steve said giving Bucky a shove.

 

“Punk,” Bucky teased back bumping his shoulder against Steve’s.

 

They both laughed and Bucky headed toward his gate, moving quickly to catch his flight. Steve bent down to clean up his table and resisted looking up for about three minutes before he gave in and glanced up. Bucky was already looking back and though Steve couldn’t hear it, he saw Bucky’s laugh and it made him smile. With a final wave, Bucky disappeared into the crowd leaving Steve alone wondering what if.

He threw away the trash from his lunch and scooped up his things ready to head back to work only to catch a glimpse of something lying on the ground beneath the table.

 

Bucky’s scarf.

 

“Shit,” Steve muttered scooping up the scarf.

 

Moving quickly Steve tried to push his way through the throngs of travelers while he wracked his brain for the gate number of Bucky’s flight. He knew it was leaving for New York,and scanned the flight board looking for it.

 

 _what were the chances_ Steve thought idly _that his home is my home too?_

 

Finally he found the flight, it was still listed as boarding and Steve raced as fast as his spindly legs and asthmatic lungs would let him. When he got there, Daisy and Darcy gave him matching apologetic looks as he watched the plane taxi down the runway and take off, the soft wool hanging limply in his fingers.

 

+++++

 

Steve arrived back at his post still holding the scarf. He was trying to hide the weird dejected feeling taking root in his chest by smiling his best smile but his friends weren’t fooled.

 

“What have you found now?” Sharon teased.

 

Natasha simply gave him a knowing look and a sympathetic smile.

 

“Oh Steve,” she started but he held up his hand.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he said.

 

“Well want in one hand and shit in the other.” Nat said, “See which one fills up first.”

 

Sharon let out a shocked giggle while Steve just glared at the red head.

 

“You’re the worst,” he told her.

 

She shrugged then raised an expectant eyebrow.  

 

“There was a hot guy in the food court,” Steve said lamely, “A really friendly hot guy.”

 

Sharon’s eyes lit up excitedly and she gestured for him to keep going.

 

“Aww Sweet cheeks  I didn’t know you saw me,” Clint said sidling up to the counter a smear of mustard on his cheek, “You should’ve said something I would’ve given you some of my hotdog.”

 

He winked suggestively and Steve groaned.

 

“Buddy I keep telling you. Nobody wants any of your _hotdog_ ,” Steve told him while pretending to shudder.

 

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t see it,” Clint said, “Give me a chance and I’m sure I could change your mind.”

 

“Barton there is mustard on your face” Nat said shooting him her best ‘shut the fuck up’ glare, “and Steve is in the middle of a story.”

 

“Sorry bro,” Clint said sincerely.

 

Steve laughed and waved away his apology.

 

“It’s no big deal really,” Steve said, “He was hot, told he liked my sketches so we chatted a bit then he had to leave for his flight.”

 

“So why do you look like someone pissed in your Starbucks?” Clint asked.

 

“Clinton!” Nat snapped.

 

“I’m fine!” Steve said forcing a smile, “I just feel lame because he was really funny and from Brooklyn just like me, I had a good time talking to him. I think he was even flirting with me a little bit but I couldn’t work up the nerve to give him my number and now I’ll never see him again.”

 

“Oh Steve,” Sharon said echoing Nat's earlier words.

 

He gave a half-hearted smile and a shrug then walked over to his station leaving his friends to whisper about him.

 

It was the Brock situation all over again. Steve meets hot guy. Hot guy and Steve hit it off. Steve freezes and lets opportunity pass him by. Steve remains alone while hot guy moves on without him.  

 

Except with Bucky it was almost worse. Shaking off the regret he went over to the lost and found bins to put the scarf away. Only when he got there his fingers refused to release the soft material.

 

“Stop it,” he whispered to himself fiercely, “Don’t be a creep.”

 

He set the scarf down amongst the other items and went back to work. The thoughts of Bucky lingered, soft and warm just like his forgotten scarf.

 

+++++

 

A week later Steve found himself attempting to find appropriate accommodation for a passenger's emotional support duck. Steve felt for the young woman holding the bird, a complex look of shame, concern and need on her face. Natasha approached and the girl curled her shoulders inward in embarrassment, her fingers sliding along the bird’s feathers rhythmically as she eyed the other woman. Nat smiled at the girl then looked at the screen Steve was frantically typing away at.

 

“Is there a problem?” Nat asked kindly.

 

“Nope,” Steve said cheerfully, giving the girl a warm smile before turning to Nat.

 

“I was told I couldn’t bring Daisy aboard my flight,” the girl interjected, “I came over to see if that was true.”

 

“Is the bird registered as a support animal?” Nat asked.

 

“Yes she is, I gave Steve a copy of the paperwork already.”

 

The sound of a cell phone ringing Nat from saying anything else and she looked below the counter to see that Steve’s cell was the one ringing. It was an unknown caller with a New York area code.

 

“Rogers,” Nat said nudging him with her hip, “It’s for you.”

 

“Yeah I know,” he said distractedly, “It keeps doing that but I’m kinda busy.”

 

“Steve.” Nat tried again.

 

“Nat.” he said shooting her a look over his shoulder.

 

She flicked her gaze down to his phone and then back up to his face encouraging him to do the same. Looking down, he caught sight of the number and his eyes went comically wide in response.

 

Turning to the young lady he was helping he gave her an apologetic smile before he and Nat wordlessly traded places. Nat picked up where he had left off, calmly assuring the girl that her registered animal was okay to fly while Steve snatched up his phone and ducked away to answer it.

 

The call was brief and Steve would never forget a word of it. He had been accepted to art school. The urge to cover his face and shout was strong but he swallowed it down. His mouth was pulled into a nearly painful grin when Nat finished with the guest and turned a questioning glance his way.

“I got in,” he said before she could even ask.

 

“I knew you would.” she told him.

 

+++++

 

Clint, Sharon, Nat and all their friends threw him a huge going away party that included way too much beer and vodka along with copious amounts of hugging and a few rogue tears. He was going to miss them and when he tried to express his doubts about leaving the group behind, Nat had hugged him so hard his ribs felt  bruised and told him to shut up.

 

“You’re getting out of here,” Sharon told him, “You’re going to do great things.”

 

“And then you’re going to invite us all up there to celebrate!” Clint said before drunkenly kissing his cheek.

 

The party broke up just as it was beginning to slide into maudlin territory and Steve had gone home to his tiny studio apartment to sleep one last time in his lumpy twin bed before saying goodbye to his life in DC .

 

Twelve hours later Steve boarded his flight and laughed incredulously when he learned he had mysteriously been upgraded to first class.  His friends were idiots. Weird, lovely, idiots.

 

_God I’m going to miss them._

 

+++++

“When will it end?” Steve muttered to himself as he stomped through piles of March slush on the sidewalk.

Spring was in full swing but it still had managed to snow the week before making spring weather seem impossibly far away.  Weighed down with homework, Steve made his way to Betty’s a corner cafe only a few blocks from his apartment. His messenger bag bumped steadily against his hip as a cool wet breeze ruffled his hair and sent a chill down his spine.

 

Rifling in his bag Steve pulled out the only scarf he owned and tried not to feel a guilty twinge as he looped it around his neck.

 

It was Bucky’s scarf, the same one he had left in the DC airport weeks before. His moronic friends had slipped it into his luggage along with scraps of paper with ideas of what to do with it.

 

 _Put an ad on Craigslist_  Clint had suggested, _With pics of you wearing this and only this._

 

 _Ignore Clint and just post pics of the scarf_ Nat had written, _or you could also use it as an emergency self-defense weapon. Your choice._

 

 _Keep it. To remember your lost and found (trash) heap by._  From Sharon.

 

Steve had called them almost immediately and reamed them about the seriousness of stealing from the airport lost and found and also about how creepy they were for giving him that scarf.

 

“Please,” Nat had said, “Like we couldn’t see that you were still mooning over him. The one that got away. Your great white buffalo.”

 

“Great white buffalo,” Clint and Sharon whispered in the background.

 

“You guys have got to stop watching that movie,” Steve said trying not to laugh.

 

“You said he was from Brooklyn and now you’re back home in Brooklyn.” Sharon said excitedly, “It’s fate. Wear the scarf, find your true love. Post it on instagram so we can see!”

 

“Oh my god, bye losers” Steve had said.

 

That had been at the end of January and it took two more weeks and three snowstorms for Steve to give in and start wearing the scarf. Now he carried it around with him constantly and tried to stop daydreaming about the man who had owned it first.

 

Betty’s was almost packed but Steve’s favorite booth, the one with the uncracked vinyl seat beside the window was miraculously open. He tossed down his bag and settled in, ordering a large latte and an apple cinnamon muffin.

 

Steve pulled out his work and got lost in the creative groove, the world around him melting into static sound. Outside his window a shadow passed by blocking his light for a second before moving away only to return again and linger. Annoyed Steve looked up only to feel his bite of cinnamon goodness get lodged in his throat.

 

He turned from the window and coughed loudly drawing stares from the other patrons. The shadow left his window and the shop door opened with a cheery jingle.

Bucky raced to Steve’s side and rubbed his back soothingly as the other man finally stopped coughing and caught his breath.

 

“You okay pal?” Bucky asked.

 

“Ye-yeah. I think so,” Steve said, his face red with embarrassment, “piece of muffin just got caught in my throat.”

 

“You’re supposed to chew the food before you swallow it.” Bucky said sitting down across from Steve.

 

“Thanks,” Steve said dryly, “might have to try that next time.”

 

“You should. I hear it’s what all the cool kids are doing.”

 

 _This asshole_. Steve thought fondly.

 

“Is that so?” Steve said smiling, “Got any other life tips I could use?”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky said grinning, “It’s bad manners to steal people’s stuff.”

 

Steve felt his face heat even more and he quickly reached up to unravel the scarf from around his neck.

 

“No don’t,” Bucky said gently his hand resting on Steve’s forearm.

 

“I didn’t steal it,” Steve said dropping his hands, “Or at least I didn’t try to. You left it and I tried to return it but your flight had already left and you never contacted us about getting it back so it just sat there and when I moved home to Brooklyn my idiot friends thought I should bring it with me. So now-”

 

“Stevie it’s okay.” Bucky said chuckling, “I was just giving you shit. You should keep it. It looks good on you.”

 

“But it’s yours,” Steve argued.

 

_Did he just say it looks good on me? He did. That means he’s flirting right? Shit. Maybe he’s just being friendly. Be cool._

 

“Well that’s alright,” Bucky said, “You could just trade me something else for it.”

 

His eyes swept over Steve from head to waist and back up again. His smile widened as if he had found something he liked.  

 

Inside Steve’s head, he was shrieking with excitement. _He’s flirting. He’s totally flirting with you. Don’t blow it._  Steve smiled shyly and Bucky smiled back.

 

“Oh yeah?” Steve said, “Like what?”

 

Bucky licked his lips and traced a whorl in the wood tabletop with his fingertip all while never taking his eyes off Steve.

 

“Your number?”  

 

+++++

 

The line to get into the  student artist showcase was wrapped around the building and Steve paced nervously near his pieces trying to calm his nerves. Bucky had gone to find him a drink but returned empty handed. Behind him the doors had opened and people had begun milling in.

 

“How’re ya feelin pal?” Bucky asked squeezing his shoulders gently.

 

“Like I’m gonna puke.”

 

“Want me to find ya a bucket?” Bucky asked with a grin.

 

“I thought you were going to find me a water?”

 

“Sorry, no such luck. Also I was told that you had left something of yours up front.” Bucky said cryptically.

 

“What?” Steve asked.

 

“Up front, in the lost and found.”

 

“There’s a lost and found here?” Steve asked, “Maybe it’s my phone. I thought I had left it in the car but maybe I just dropped it.”

 

“Well why don’t you go check.” Bucky said, “I’ll stay here in case folks have questions.”

 

Steve hesitated for a moment then made his way to the front of the room and the reception desk. He didn’t see a lost and found box but he did see something he had been missing.

 

Clint, Nat and Sharon were all standing there waiting for him, dressed to the nines and grinning ridiculously. They cheered when they saw him and he pulled them one by one into rib crushing hugs.

 

“What are you guys doing here?” he cried.

 

“Are you kidding?! We wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Sharon told him.

 

“Your man called us.” Nat said, “Something you should’ve done but we’ve decided to forgive you this time.”

 

“I can’t believe you did it,” Clint said, “You caught your great white buffalo.”

 

“Great white buffalo,” Nat and Sharon whispered.

 

“Will you guys _please_ shut up with that?” Steve whispered, “He’s right over there!”

 

“We know,” Nat said,  “And what we’re wondering is what you’re waiting for. Are you going to properly introduce us or what?”

 

The night went smoothly after that, Bucky took to Steve’s DC friends like a duck to water and they welcomed him onto ‘the team’ almost immediately. And to no one’s surprise, except Steve’s, two of his paintings sold. One of them to the infamous Tony Stark. As the night wore down, Steve was reluctant to let his friends leave but they assured him they weren’t going far.

 

“We’re in town for the whole weekend,” Sharon told him.

 

“We are curious if this city you love so much is worth it,” Nat added.

 

“Worth what?” Steve asked.

 

“Worth the hassle of us relocating.” Nat said, “I mean not that we miss you or anything. It’s just maybe we need a change of scenery.”

 

“Right.” Steve said pulling her into another hug, “Obviously.”

 

“Obviously.” she repeated.

 

“Besides,” Clint said, “I wouldn’t leave without giving you that hotdog I owe ya.”

 

Nat and Sharon giggled while Bucky looked at his boyfriend in confusion. Steve just held his face in his hands and groaned.

 

“Clint for the last time-” he started.

 

“I don’t get it,” Bucky said, “ If you’re looking for hot dogs Stevie I think there’s a stand selling ‘em on the corner.”

 

“A whole stand?” Clint said excitedly, “Now this I’ve got to see.”

 

Nat and Sharon laughed louder.

 

“Why is that funny? Steve-” Bucky said.

 

“I’ll explain later.” Steve said patting Bucky on the back.

 

+++++

  
  


The following even Steve sat on the couch in the apartment that he and Bucky shared his sketchbook open on his lap. Bucky sat beside him, his eyes focused on Shaun of the Dead which they were watching for the millionth time.

 

Just as Queen’s ‘Dont Stop Me Now’ kicked in signaling one of the best cinematic zombie fights in all of cinema, the doorbell rang. Steve hit pause and stretched.

 

“That would be the pizza,” Bucky said standing, “I’ll grab plates if you can pay? My wallet is in the dish by the door.”

 

Steve snagged Bucky’s wallet to grab the cash and in the process saw a folded up piece of paper tucked in amongst the crumpled bills. He paid for their dinner then shut the door the pizza box and his first drawing of Bucky in his hands.

 

“You kept it?” he asked walking over to where his boyfriend sat.

 

“What?” Bucky asked taking the pizza so Steve could sit beside him.

 

Steve held up the drawing so Bucky could see it and he watched as the brunette flushed, his eyes dropping to the pizza in his lap and staying there.

 

“Well yeah,” he said softly, “Of course I kept it. I mean it was the only thing I had to remember you by since I was too dumb to remember to give you my number.”

 

“Hey,” Steve said lifting Bucky’s gaze back to his, “I didn’t give you mine either but it worked out in the end didn’t it?”

 

“Yeah it did,” Bucky said, his voice husky.

 

Bucky leaned forward and captured Steve’s lips in a sweet, deep kiss. The blonde moaned a little in the back of his throat and tried to move closer but the pizza box prevented him from climbing into Bucky’s lap like he wanted to.

 

Bucky chuckled against Steve’s lips before pulling away. Steve pretended to pout for a second but gladly took the plate Bucky handed him.

 

“Food first. Sex after.” Bucky said.

 

“Fine,” Steve said, mock put out.

 

They ate in silence for a few moments before Bucky broke the silence.

 

“I’m real glad things worked out they did,” he said, “Now when you become famous, I won’t just have your autograph, I’ll get to come along for the ride and be famous too.”

 

“And neither of us had to join the circus.”

 

“Punk!”

 

“Jerk.”

  
As they shared a pepperoni and cheese flavored kiss, Steve was glad he was no longer lost. He had been found. He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! (Sorry for the corny/cheesy/awks ending)
> 
> Comments and Kudos keep my plane in the skies!
> 
> Find me on tumblr (lesserknownhero)
> 
> P.S.
> 
> I stole the great white buffalo bit from the movie 'Hot Tub Time Machine'. It was stuck in my head and just imagining Steve's friends saying it made me laugh so I couldn't help but put it in. Sebastian Stan is in it, do I figure it isn't too bad. (please forgive me)


End file.
